Worded Thoughts

Long

A want isn't
an empty pocket; no,
it is an emptied space between
a need
     and
my attention to what I have.

posted by : @ 7:39 PM Comments: 0

Near Dawn

The solidity of air
where
a cigar recently burned itself short
makes me feel slow in motion, even though I sit still,
and only the World is moving, somewhere.

Still,
my thoughts are slower too, as if by suggestion they
stroll from smoke to air to smoke,
weaving
an empty basket near the ceiling,
ripe for copy in a classical still-life with fruits and cloth and a tidy worldview;
because that’s what people like me like to do.

When I sleep I dream of horror and of hounding Hell.
When I wake I dream of God and of order in the universe.
I do not know which is real, but I know there is
no rest for the wicked.
It seems my mind is too tall for my bed.

The thought strikes me that,
if the sky were less beautiful, I might go outside to see it.
How meaningless.

posted by : @ 5:20 AM Comments: 0

Hourly Wage

The range of my thoughts
is cramped.
My words are forced
between these lines.
The narrow body which wraps my soul
is caged in spaces too small for a dog.
Nothing holds me but free will;
no one is my master but tyrannous luxury and despotic comfort.
Dried husks of ambition litter my reason
and clog motivation.
I have not seen a bird
in days
except thru glass...

I am hungry.

posted by : @ 9:15 PM Comments: 0

purpose:
a few good reasons
backing myriad actions
and options

today again i'm walking
weaving forging
with my shoulders and chest
ahead

posted by : @ 12:07 PM Comments: 0

sheets of glass rest still
liquid lines are slicing
motionless they sway
faceless dead reflection

my love is water
when she is warm, passionate, giving
her smile flows and showers like summer
when she is chilled and hurting
her silence pelts beautiful and unfriendly
when she is cold, frozen, crystal
her indifference stings to the touch

my love is water
my life is glass
we bend the light into shimmering dance

posted by : @ 9:18 PM Comments: 0

Airplane Day

Wait weighs heavy?
Crushes, buries, immobilizes?
My strength is drained, my bones are sore, and breathing equals pain?

Wait weighs nothing.
Relaxes, separates, diffuses.
I float inches from the ground, unable to touch anything solid, useless and empty and miss'd.

Something will pull me over the ridge,
cool, condense, drop,
and I will rain all over this dead gray landscape again, because green is what's needed.

posted by : @ 12:28 AM Comments: 0

Rest

Enter my sanctum.
In ancient days there stood a proud collonade, tree-lined, smelling of flowers and garden earth.
Sunlight thawed in morning, baked at noon, and streamed through stained glass toward evening.
A moon reflected the music played by rippling pools at night,
and the Lady of Love danced in shadows.

Enter my sanctum.
The doors shut snugly, deceptive, denying spent remains of living that clatter, cluttering the floors.
A cold wet nothing blows vindictive through flesh and bone, shrouding the windows with cobwebs.
Lights outline dim places and sounds swirl the void,
while the Sirens of Death scream and laugh.

posted by : @ 12:09 PM Comments: 0

I Miss You

posted by : @ 9:48 AM Comments: 0

Anger is blood.
An expressionist painting in red,
another used-up tissue offensively
continues to exist.

The single car key within arm's reach
offers retreat, defeat, and abandonment
for free:
today's chosen icon of thoughtfulness.

And I can't stay here much longer,
my hunger's getting louder;
if I would just stop bleeding I could
drive my pride away.

posted by : @ 1:35 PM Comments: 0

Anomaly

From the collision, we remained face to face,
spinning and slowing tightly in place.
Given the odds and the varying winds,
and our immutably incompatible minds,
they theorized that rotational energy'd increase
as thermo-magnetic attractions decreased,
until opposing gravitional forces
dictated motion in opposite courses.

There seemed nothing wrong in these clear calculations;
when double-bonds broke, the expected mutation
occurred, was observed, and we orbited once.
The vacuum which formed in this period of months
was recorded and studied. Nothing amounted
to much, 'til, drawn by a force unaccounted,
we spiralled back into each other once more
and dissolved more completely than ever before.

posted by : @ 2:51 AM Comments: 0

Reflection

After a day has passed, sitting alone in a chair,
I'll find just what it was I wanted to do with my time:
merely something.

Life is modified and simplified to be
practically nothing.

Why not?

(This is the slack in the end of a rope tied to nothing.)

Sometimes I wonder if I have a soul.
And sometimes ... I hope I don't.

posted by : @ 10:32 PM Comments: 0

-unfinished-

I circle flimsy fences and warnings, contemptuous;
The guards glance back at me.
"Forgiven"
glances too, and frowns as I walk.
Walk on.
Observe the faded faces of buildings: expressionless,
but in their eyes I see
old women
moving to and fro at their work,
alone.

And the shading smudges--
who I am and whom I have never been,
rubbed across the ridges
of all men--
In quiet,
on a long lake at night.

Desperate to be rid of something I couldn't find,
forcing, willing
emptiness out through my eyes--
and then
day fills in its place:
the sunrise tips unhurried,
glowing more sour by degrees,
finally spilling
over the flat horizon--
"The End"
propells me away.

And the shading smudges--
who I am and whom I have never been,
shadows on the faces of all men--
in quiet,
on a wide shore at dawn.

posted by : @ 1:00 PM Comments: 0

This is a night when thunder echoes my thoughts.

The air and the sky and the corners of my mouth
are heavy, pulling me inward. Dirt.
Wednesday witches tattered fly South
toward certain disinterest.
If you saw, in a different way, a termite eating sand
-paper sandings from a concrete floor underground,
you might tell your own story,
for as anyone knows, there are more
atoms
in a grain of dust
than in all the love in all the world. Resound!

posted by : @ 1:41 AM Comments: 0

Well-Received Honesty is a Rarity

Her legs are delicious so she gives free samples.
Don't you wish you could afford them?
Don't you desire and adore them?
Hardly untouchable, she's completely unreachable.

Sky Captain understandably inevitably crashes.

Heroes and dogs are a complementary mix,
so let's continue to be friends;
another's means may be my ends.
In doubtful places, we all are teachable.

Bright eyes
sympathize
from the outside
in.
My heart
opens down,
feeling others'
sin.
Would it be
so strange
to win?

(Bury my ashes.)

posted by : @ 9:16 PM Comments: 1

This Summer I'll Probably

yes, it's summertime
i know, i'm way behind
you don't need to remind me.

wind chimes
tan-lines
in a day or so
i'm almost ready.

posted by : @ 10:14 AM Comments: 0

Part I

But you can't shake it:
the damning premonition.
At the end of the day,
what if she'll say, "I'm sorry."
Her head turned away, her eyes on the floor,
and her lips ... so distant.
In that instant, you can't fake it.

posted by : @ 6:00 AM Comments: 1